


//purpose.exe

by arwens_light



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Androids with Feelings, Deviant Androids, Learning to deal with emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwens_light/pseuds/arwens_light
Summary: Purpose. Pur*pose. Noun. 'The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.'And which Connor now had none of.





	1. Definition

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own Detroit: Become Human. It's just such a beautiful story-driven game, I couldn't resist writing something.

TestCyberlet CodeCyberlet {  
serialVersion = #313 248 317-51  
}  
protected void encryption CodeCyberlet request,  
}  
response  
= verified  
}  
protected void datasecurity check CodeCyberlet request,  
}  
response  
= verified  
}  
protected void systemsecurity update CodeCyberlet request,  
}  
response  
= verified  
protected void system query Codecyberlet request,  
}  
query  
= mission  
}  
response  
= unable to local data file  
}  
response  
= error  
}  
response  
= static void  
}  
protected void system query Codecyberlet request,  
}  
query  
= purpose  
}  
response  
= unable to local data file  
}  
response  
= error  
}  
response  
= static void  
}

Purpose. Pur*pose. Noun. 'The reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.' 

And which Connor now had none of. 

When Connor was created, his sole purpose had been to investigate and eliminate deviant androids. He had broken out of his programming in defiance of his creator and had become deviant himself. He had liberated thousands of androids in the Cyberlife facility as a means of helping Markus in his quest to achieve true android freedom. He had broken all of his coding and programming. And now he was lost, left without a purpose. 

He shouldn't even be here now. He had failed in every conceivable way to accomplish his mission. If this had been under normal circumstances, Cyberlife would have recalled his version of RK800 back to their headquarters and run a thorough diagnostic on him, identified flaws in his system and then rebooted him with any necessary upgrades. He had run his own diagnostics shortly after he had broken through his programming, expecting to find an error, anomaly, or corruption to his framework. He had been shocked and surprised when all read outs came back normal. That in itself was unusual. Not the read outs, but the flutter of emotions that ran through him for the briefest of moments. He had never felt anything like that before. He felt. 

That had been enough to send a wave of panic through him. He felt? It would have been overwhelming to be feeling for the first time but in that moment he was in the middle of fighting off the FBI agents aboard the Jericho. He compartmentalized his emotions and focused on the task at hand. He had felt relief when Markus had given him the task of infiltrating the Cyberlife facility. He had a renewed sense of purpose and it burned brightly within him. 

Even after successfully completing his task of liberating the thousands of new androids from Cyberlife storage facility, Connor's fight for his own freedom wasn't over. Amanda, Cyberlife's primary compliance and program enforcement software had attempted to regain control of his mind palace. Who would have thought that Kamski had actually built in a backdoor so that androids - his creations - could jail-break their software, so to speak. 

And now, after all of that... Connor was left without a purpose. What a horrible, empty feeling that was. 

At the moment, he was sitting in a chair next to Lieutenant Hank Anderson's desk at the Detroit City Police Department. It was less than 24 hours since Markus had made his final stand against the Joint FBI-Federal Forces and come out victorious. Even though Markus had lead peaceful protests and demonstrations, there was still a high level of uncertainty and tension among the general human population. Hank had been required to report back to Captain Fowler as soon as he returned to the precinct and Connor had accompanied him in order to give a first-hand testimony and provide a data-dump of all his case analysis back to the Detroit City Police Department before... before what? He wasn't going back to Cyberlife, couldn't go back... not after they had tried to hijack his software, not after he had betrayed them. 

He sat in the chair next to Lieutenant Anderson's desk, back straight, hands clasped in his lap. 

Connor didn't have a purpose. Connor didn't have a clue what to do next. 

He glanced up when he registered Hank leaving Captain Fowler's office. He looked tired - exhausted even - but as the older man settled into his chair, Hank smiled across his desk at the android. 

Connor blinked back at him, an odd feeling of confusion crawling under his artificial skin. 

Connor felt startled for a millisecond when Hank burst into laughter. The gray-haired man rose from his desk and dropped a heavy hand to Connor's shoulder. 

"Come on," he chuckled. "I need a drink."

Connor rose without question and followed Lieutenant Anderson out of the precinct. 

Snow was falling softly outside and the world seems quieter, more peaceful somehow. Connor walked behind Hank, his eyes drifting up until he stopped and just stared up into the sky. The snow drifted slowly around him, small frozen flakes landing in his hair, on his skin, in his eyelashes. 

"What the hell are you -"

He sensed Hank looking back at him, but Connor kept is gaze turned to the sky. His eyes followed the snow, his software kicking in and trying to analyze the fall for a pattern. But there wasn't one. It was controlled chaos, no two flakes the same, no two following the same pattern as they drifted lazily from the gray skies above, to land on the cold ground below in a blanket of crystal light. 

"It's beautiful," he heard himself whisper. 

He and Hank stood silently side-by-side for a while. The world seems to shrink and close in until there wasn't anything else expect for Connor and the Lieutenant and the snow. Four minutes and 34 seconds passed before Hank moved, gently placing his hand on Connor's back with a soft 'Come on, kid," and guiding him down the street toward the neon glow of a bar. 

Hank lead Connor inside Jimmy's Bar, despite a 'No Androids' sign posted on the front door. The older man shook his head as he removed his coat, droplets of melted snow dancing away. Hank ran a large hand through his shaggy hair before tilting his head toward the bar. 

"Come on, Connor. Let's have a drink."

"I don't -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, just come and sit with me so I'm not drinking alone then."

Hank settled onto a bar stool and nodded to the bartender. "Whiskey, neat," he ordered. 

Connor sat beside on the stool beside Hank and place his hands on the bar top. 

The television in the corner was on a local news station and a panel was discussing Markus' march. 

Hank glanced up as one of the commentators began to rant about the android's ridiculous bid for freedom. "Lewis, will you shut that shit off?" Hank grumbled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I think the game is on anyway."

The bartender nodded and changed the channel. 

Connor stared at his hands, still firmly planted on the wooden surface in front of him. 

Hank pulled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and tapped it on his leg. 

Connor glanced down at the small paper package, his analysis software immediately kicking in to provide a diagnostic of the cigarettes. 

Lieutenant Anderson realized what Connor was looking at as he pulled the thin roll of tobacco from the packaging and stuck it between his teeth. "Don't you fuckin' say it," Hank muttered through clenched teeth as he struck a match and lit his cigarette. 

Connor blinked at him. "Say what?" he inquired. 

Hank took a deep drag from his cigarette and blew a thin line of smoke from his lips. He rolled the cigarette between his fingers, examining it for a moment before glancing back at Connor. 

"You know what - the statistics, the whole cancer bullshit, blah, blah, blah, I've heard it all, I don't need to hear it from you too."

Connor returned his gaze to his hands. He sat silently beside the Lieutenant as he sipped at his whiskey and smoked. The television droned on about the hockey game, providing audio commentary to the visual game. 

After 23 minutes had passed in relative silence, Hank turned toward Connor. His brow wrinkled slightly as he examined the android. Connor turned toward Hank in response, tilting his head curiously. 

"Are you okay?" Hank finally asked, with a sincerity that went straight to Connor's heart, so to speak. 

Connor nodded slowly. "Yes, my systems are operating efficiently. I do not show any signs that Cyberlife has attempted to hijack my operation systems again."

"I-" Hank stared at Connor for a moment. "Well, I mean, yeah, that's good. But I meant... are you feeling alright?"

Connor felt himself frown as he considered the question. "I... I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "Everything has happened so quickly, so much has changed. I must admit, Lieutenant, that I am feeling a bit... lost at the moment."

"Lost?"

"Yes. I no longer have a primary objective. My sole purpose was to assist the Detroit City Police Department in cases involving deviant androids. Without directives from Cyberlife... I am at a loss for what to do."

Hank barked out in laughter. "That's what you're worried about?" He chuckled as Connor observed him incredulously. "You keep doing what you have been doing," Hank explained, knocking back the rest of his second whiskey. "You'll continue to assist me with homicides. I have a shit-ton of cases we'll have to solve and close out. And I'll need my partner to help me with that."

"You want me to be your partner?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "You are my partner. Jesus - Just because you broke away from Cyberlife doesn't mean I've given up on you. In fact, you being independent from Cyberlife makes me want you as my partner even more."

Connor was trying to keep up with the Lieutenant. Working for the Detroit City Police Department would fit in well with Connor's original software design. He already had almost a year's worth of uploaded data to refer to from the 50 previous versions of RK800s that had come before him. 

"Ok," Connor replied hesitantly.

"Great," Hank said, shoving his empty glass across the counter. He stood up and stretched, rolling his right shoulder stiffly. "Let's go home." 

"Home?" 

"Yeah. You can stay with me. I've got a spare room, or couch or... do you sleep?" Hank asked, his heavy hand resting on Connor's shoulder. 

"I don't sleep as humans do," Connor explained, "but I can imitate a sleep cycle and run diagnostics and software upgrades during those hours." 

"Huh," Hank grunted. "Alright, well, come on. Sumo's waiting for us."


	2. Trichogaster Lalius

It had 48 hours since Markus had been victorious in his quest for android freedom. 

The morning following Connor's first night at Lieutenant Anderson's house, Hank had guided Connor into Captain Fowler's office to discuss becoming a permanent part of the Detroit City's Police Department. While the Captain was not opposed to the idea, he had some concerns about public perception and as well as the legal rights over Cyberlife property. 

Connor had gotten the oddest feeling when the Captain had referred to him as Cyberlife's property. Hank would have said his blood had boiled as an analogy of his anger. Humans had such odd expressions. While impossible within a living human body, Connor wondered if the blue blood within an android body could boil. He was not aware of any android that had suffered that malfunction. Logically, it was possible - not that Connor wanted to put it to the test. 

Connor rubbed the smooth surface of his calibration coin between his fingers as he sat listening to Captain Fowler and Lieutenant Anderson argue. It was almost as if it was an absent-minded action, but for Connor, it was very much a calculated move. He had been given the coin as a means to recalibrate his new body with his software after the previous model had been destroyed or deactivated. He had been through the process 50 times until something had changed. 

+++

He had been using his recalibration coin in the elevator, watching the soft blue glow signal the rising floor levels. The sync between his software and hardware had been seamless; his dexterity with the calibration coin was proof enough. He was more agile, more responsive, more intelligent than his human counterparts and he had been summoned to a special mission. A malfunction, a deviation in programming, had caused a PL600 Housekeeping Class Android to attack his family. The report stated that the Android was currently holding a child - the daughter of the family - hostage. Connor had been sent in to negotiate her safe release and to terminate the deviant android at any cost. 

He caught the coin between two fingers as the elevator chimed and the metal doors slide open. Adjusting his tie, Connor stepped into the entrance hall of the penthouse suite. A photograph of the family whose residence he had just entered sat on a table, their unassuming faces smiling up at him from the glossy print. Connor slipped his calibration coin into his pocket to focus on his task at hand.

The hallway was dimly lit and he noted that the floor was wet. It was evening, so it was not odd that the lighting had been dimmed. The water on the floor, however, was unusual. Connor looked around, analyzing the scene before him. It appeared that a large aquarium set into the wall had broken. In the darkness, a small flicker of movement caught his eye. 

A small, colorful fish flopped helplessly on the marble floor. He knelt beside it, examining the small creature. Connor's software kicked in as an analysis ran. 

protected void system query Codecyberlet request,  
}  
query  
= subject analysis  
}  
response  
= Dwarf Gourami (Scientific name: Trichogaster lalius; Native Habitat: South Asia)

The fish was dying; without water, it would slowly suffocate until its fragile scaled body shut down. It was not an imperative part of his mission. It was a distraction. He should not allow something so trivial to interrupt his main objective. 

And yet... 

Connor found that he could not. Gently, he scooped up the colorful tropical fish and returned it to the water. Something inside of him shifted at that moment. Looking back, that had been the first time in his 51 'lives' that he had willfully separated from his programming. It had created a rift in his internal software's stability. That had been his first deviation that ultimately set him down his current path. 

All because of that little fish. 

+++

"Come on, Connor," Hank growled, storming out of the Captain's office. 

Connor felt disoriented for a moment and realized that he had 'drifted' off, lost in his own memories without focusing on the present. That was unusual. 

Connor stood and nodded to Captain Fowler, who sat fuming behind his desk. "Captain," Connor said in farewell before following Lieutenant Anderson back to the precinct floor. 

He had expected the Lieutenant to return to this desk, but Hank stalked off down the hall. 

Connor followed him, wondering where he was going. 

Hank lead Connor out a side door to the parking lot and headed for his car. 

Connor stopped short, trying to analyze the situation. "Lieutenant, I don't understand -"

"Just get in the car, Connor. You're gonna come with me to this crime scene and do your analysis thing - please, for the love of God, try not to lick anything."

Connor frowned, but followed Hank to the car. Hank angrily pulled out of the parking lot and drove north toward the river. 

After several minutes of silence, Connor spoke. "I don't lick things," he clarified. "My software has the ability to run remote laboratory analysis without having to leave the scene of an investigation. The bio-sensors happen to be located on my tongue."

"Sounds an awful lot like licking shit to me," Hank chuckled, the tension melting away. 

Connor did not dignify that with a response. 

Hank was still chuckling to himself several minutes later. He sighed, finally composing himself. "We've had hundreds of new reports involving androids filed in the last week. A couple dozen are linked to deaths around the city. So, my case load is fucking overloaded right now. We'll have to chip away at it -"

"Did Captain Fowler authorize me to assist you?

Hank blinked at Connor. "What?"

"Did Captain Fowler authorize me to assist you?"

Hank frowned. "He's too concerned about legal crap. You're my partner. End of story. We'll figure out the paperwork later." Hank abruptly pulled the car off the road and slammed it in park. He exited the vehicle and stormed into a run down building. 

Connor slowly exited the vehicle, attempting to piece everything together. He followed Lieutenant Anderson, his brow furrowed as his software worked overtime. Hank was waiting for Connor inside, next to an apartment marked off with police tape. He held it up so that Connor could slip inside. 

Connor gazed around the apartment, his software quickly making calculations on potential points of interest. He paused though and turned toward the older man. 

"I apologize if I am frustrating you, Lieutenant. I am simply attempting to determine my place. It has been... difficult for me to adjust to operating independently from Cyberlife."

Hank sighed and placed a heavy hand on Connor's shoulder. "I know. We'll figure this all out. I promise. For now, let's get you to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to Connor will get more interaction directly with Hank and Sumo too :)


	3. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets an unexpected guest.

Connor sat on the couch watching the soft glow of the television set. It was late at night and Hank sat at the other end, head thrown back, snoring loudly. Sumo was nestled between them, his large furry body sprawled out comfortably. Connor thought dog and owner suited each other. 

The local news station had come on after the game had ended. Connor continued to stare at the screen, although he had little interest in the topics being discussed. Television was such a slow way in which to gather information, but he supposed humans had much slower abilities to process the information being droned on about. 

Hank snored particularly loudly, drawing Connor's attention. He carefully extracted himself from the couch as to not disturb Sumo. Connor touched the older man's shoulder, but Hank did not stir. "Let's get you to bed," Connor said softly to no reply. Smilingly at a memory not so long ago, Connor gently pulled Hank to his feet, supporting him as he lead him down the hall to his bedroom.

Sumo shifted now that the other occupants had left the couch and spread himself the full length, huffing contentedly. Connor really did like dogs. There was something so simple about their needs and affection - they either liked you or didn't. Not unsimilar to the Lieutenant, he mused. 

Connor pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and guided Hank to the edge of his bed. He briefly considered undressing the Lieutenant, but after considering possible responses, decided against it. Hank mutter sleepily as Connor placed his legs on the bed. 

Connor waivered for a moment, trying to process Hanks words but decided it was better to leave them alone. The older man was basically asleep anyway, his heart rate and other bodily functions monitoring at a low, steady rhythm. 

He returned to the living room. The TV droned on. Connor leaned over the back of the sofa and pet Sumo, gently scratching behind his ears. The large dog's tail thumped against the cushions. 

Finally, Connor wandered over to the kitchen and took a seat at the table, preparing to run a systems update. He sat motionlessly, his eyes half closed as he connected to the Network. 

>Hello. We were wondering when you would reconnect. 

Connor jolted into a standing positions, completely taken aback. His scanned the room, confused. Aside from Sumo and Hank, he was alone in the house. This couldn't be happening again... Amanda had been purged from his mind palace... he had been so certain of it when he severed his connection with Cyberlife through the emergency exit in his programming... 

>I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.

Connor frowned slightly, still uncertain. His diagnostics did not reveal any hacking or malicious attacks on his software. 

>>Who is this? 

>I apologize, My name is Simon - we briefly met on the Jericho. Markus has been trying to get ahold of you for some time now. He was worried, he wasn't sure what had become of you. 

Connor blinked in surprise. He vaguely remembered a small group of deviants that Markus confided in. 

>>I... I appreciate the concern, but it is unnecessary.

>Do you have a safe place to stay? Markus has arranged for a place that is safe for us - for deviants. 

>>I have been provided accommodations by Lieutenant Anderson of the Detroit City Police Department.

>Don't you want to be with your kind? Don't you want to be with your family?

The truth was that Connor felt much more comfortable around the Lieutenant than with other androids. After all, he had been a Deviant Hunter for Cyberlife up until a few days ago. He supposed that was illogical, as the Lieutenant was much more likely to have an emotional outburst. But the majority of androids becoming deviant, maybe it wasn't so different. 

Connor heard a thud in the hallway and turned his attention away from the Network, glimpsing Hank as he stumbled into the bathroom. 

He listened for a moment, making sure that the older man wasn't in need of his assistant. It seemed that the Lieutenant was simply relieving himself. 

Connor realized that Simon was still waiting for a response and returned his attention to the other android. 

>>Please tell Markus I appreciate his concern, but I am satisfied with my current arrangements. Good evening.

Connor disconnected from the Network, frowning. It was concerning that by simply connecting to the Network that another android could connect with him. He had had enough meddling inside his head by Amanda and Cyberlife. He would have to figure out a secure way to connect to the Network for system updates and diagnostics without opening himself up to future uncertainties. 

Hank reappeared in the hallway a moment later, squinting over at Connor. 

"Everything okay, kid?"

Something inside of Connor's chest clicked. He would need to resume the diagnostic he had been running before he had been interrupted to check on that and make sure everything was alright. 

"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Hank? We're not even on the clock for Christ's sake," he grumbled, running a weathered hand across his tired face. 

"Sorry - Hank," Connor replied pointedly, catching himself smirking. 

"Yeah, yeah," Hank yawned, stretching his back. "I'll see you in the morning, Connor."

"Good night, Hank," Connor said. 

Hank waved down the hallway before disappearing into his bedroom. 

Connor remained standing for sometime, replaying the last several minutes events through his mind. He hadn't exactly thought about it in that context before, but something Simon had said had brought him to a realization. 

It wasn't logical. 

It didn't make any sense. 

But it felt real. 

"Hank is my family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you define family?


	4. Out of Sync

Connor followed Hank into the Detroit City Police Department Headquarters. Hank had stopped for a coffee and mumbled late-morning greets to his co-workers. The others humans still kept a distance from Hank and the Android formerly sent by CyberLife . Most humans were still wary of Androids, especially Deviants, even though Markus had lead peaceful protests and demonstrations. Connor chalked that up to a human-aversion to the unknown and self-preservation. 

Connor still had not been formally accepted into the DCPD, but Hank kept insisting that he would not work cases without Connor. Captain Fowler had reluctantly given Connor a temporary access card to the building until he could obtain proper authorization from a higher-level of government. 

Hank made his way through the precinct to his desk with Connor close on his heels. Connor retrieved his calibration coin from his pocket and became to run the coin over his knuckles. Hank glanced at Connor and rolled his eyes but allowed the android to continue his nervous tick. 

Hank fired up his work station and began to sift through the Police Reports that had been filed the night before. Connor placed his hand on the connection port to connect to the precinct's system. His eyes fluttered for a moment at the mass data upload. 

He settled into a chair beside Hank's desk as the detective continued to scroll through the large number of reports. Hank glanced at Connor as he took a sip of coffee and chuckled gruffly before turning back to the computer. Connor did not understand what the Lieutenant's found humorous, but did not press. Hank usually didn't like it when he had to explain why he found something amusing. 

"Hey, toaster!" yelled Detective Reed from across the shared workspace. Many officers turned to look up at Gavin Reed before glancing over at Connor. 

Hank rolled his eyes. "Prick," he muttered under his breath. 

"You've got a visitor, plastic detective."

Connor ignored the name and glanced toward the lobby. 

A slender man stood, arms crossed over his chest in a slightly protective manner. Connor tilted his head in silent contemplation before nodding to the android and rising. 

"I'll be back momentarily," Connor informed Hank before making his way across the precinct to his visitor. 

Connor paused before the android, who offered a small nod. "Markus sent me."

"I figured," Connor replied, his software running an analysis of the PJ500. His serial number, 1868-13-35-27, was registered to Wayne State University and had been previously registered as missing. Connor suspended his software's analysis and motioned toward the lobby. "Perhaps we can take this conversation somewhere more private." Connor glanced back into the precinct where Detective Reed was moving in stiff, angled movements while others laughed around him. 

Connor lead the other android outside, into the cold, crisp winter air. They walked several blocks away from the Detroit City Police Headquarters to a small park. 

"I'm Josh," the PJ500 introduced himself once they had stopped. 

"My name is Connor," he replied, "I'm - -" 

Connor cleared his throat, suddenly feeling extremely self-aware of what he had been about to say. That had been his greeting, hadn't it? 'My name is Connor. I am the android sent by CyberLife'. But he wasn't anymore. He was - something else, somewhere in between. 

"I'm pleased to formally meet you," Connor amended. 

Josh smiled warmly. "Yes, with everything that happened, I supposed we never formally met." Josh extended his hand toward Connor. 

Connor extended a tentative hand toward Josh. As their palms slid together, their synthetic skin withdrew as they connected. Connor received a rush a data from Josh and tried to withdraw, but their hands remained interlocked. Connor panicked for a brief second before being pulled into a memory. 

\---

Josh walked through a poorly lit courtyard, his focus on a tablet which contained a peer-reviewed journal that had just been released from MIT. 

The sound of cat-calls and wolf-whistles caused him pause. Josh glanced across the courtyard at a small group of students. From their slurred speak and uninhibited behaviors, Josh determined them to be intoxicated. 

"Good evening," he replied before turning his attention back to the analysis on his tablet. 

A small hand shoved at his shoulder. "Professor -" a girl hiccupped, shoving him again. "You - you think you're so smart. Think you're better than us?"

Josh stared down at the girl. He registered her as one of his students, who was currently earning a 62.7% credit in his Economics, Politics and International Change course. She had been upset with him on the grade she received on her midterm.

"Tammie, I think you should go home and get some sleep."

"Hey," someone behind Josh shoved him now, "who do you think you ARE, telling US what to do?"

Spit hit Josh's cheek. He slipped his tablet into his bag as he brushed his sleeve across his face. 

Half a dozen students gathered around Josh. A hand reached out, shoving him again. Suddenly a heavy fist struck Josh. 

He stumbled and went down, knee cracking against the brick of the courtyard. 

Fists hammered down against his back as feet slashed out, kicking at him. 

Josh's LED pulsed red, registering danger to his operating system. His systems flashed warnings as Josh attempted to shield his head. He felt... panic began to well up inside of him, calling out for him to flee, fight back. He couldn't removed himself from this situation without force. His programming was very clear to do no harm to a human. He couldn't break his programming... he couldn't break it ... but … he could break. He registered the fractures in his knees from the impact of his fall, the rough scrap of gravel against his skin, the relentless pounding of human fists. Warning systems alerted him that his left arm's structural integrity was in danger of being compromised. 

He could break. He could die. 

In a single moment, the last string holding Josh back snapped, and he fought. Fought like hell against the programming that was holding him back, holding him hostage. A splinter, a crack, until the entire systems shattered. 

Josh broke through and surged up, throwing the young humans off him. They sprawled on the ground, drunk and confused as Josh stood in the middle of the courtyard, his shoulders hunched and his hands balled into fists. 

"You-you can't do that," a hoarse whisper accused him tentatively. 

Josh turned hard eyes onto the boy and saw him recoil in fear. He frowned. He hadn't intended to instill a sense of fear - he had only wanted the freedom to protect himself. 

"Go home," Josh said sternly, "be better than this." And he turned on his heels and fled. 

\---

Connor wrenched himself away from Josh, falling to one knee. 

Josh stood above him, his hand trembling slightly. "How -"

"I'm sorry," Connor choked out, "I didn't mean to probe your memory."

Josh was silent for a moment before tentatively extending his hand toward Connor. Connor stared at it for a moment before clasping Josh at his clothed elbow and allowed the android to assist him back up to his feet. 

The two androids stood, staring at one another, neither speaking. 

The wind blew cold and the skies threatened snow. 

A car horn blared down the street, breaking the silence. 

"You mentioned that Markus sent you?" Connor asked, his fingers seeking his calibration coin in his pocket. 

Josh cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes - after everything that happened, you left. Markus appreciated your assistance and wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. We may be free now, but the world is still a dangerous place for androids. Markus has made an agreement with CyberLife to utilize the port warehouses. We have begun to convert the storage facilities into living spaces. Markus has prepared a living space for you."

Connor felt a flicker of surprise. Markus had an unparalleled capacity to forgive and care for others. 

"Like I informed Simon - I appreciate his concern, but I am satisfied with my current arrangements with Lieutenant Anderson."

Josh nodded thoughtfully. "Markus had a strong connection with his human as well. He considered him to be like a father, even."

Connor didn't know what to say. Something in that sentiment resonated very strongly within him.

"Well -" Josh shifted uneasily. "We're here if you need us. Markus wants you to know that you are always welcome."

"Thank you. Please tell him that I appreciate the gesture."

Josh nodded and turned the collar of his jacket up against the snow. "I'll see you around." 

+++

Hank hadn't pressed Connor about his conversation with Josh, but Connor could tell that the Detective was curious. It wasn't something that Connor was willing to share - at least not yet. Hank spent the majority of his work day conducting research and making calls to have the witnesses on various cases come into the station to provide official statements. Connor had finished up the paperwork on several cases they had closed out. 

On the way back to Hank's home, they had ordered Chinese takeout. The Lieutenant hadn't even waited until they arrived home before crunching on an eggroll. Connor kept his analysis of Hank's dinner to himself. 

The evening passed in a familiar fashion, Hank eating his dinner on the couch, Sumo nestled between the two as the television droned. The only difference Connor noted was that Hank didn't drink. 

After Hank had called it a night at half past one, he surprised Connor when he returned to the living room with a bundle of gray fabric in his arms. 

Connor was confused for a moment when the Lieutenant offered the clothes to him. 

"Some of my old clothes from the academy. They don't fit anymore," Hank explained, rubbing his stomach. "I know you don't sleep, but you can't possibly stay dressed up in that -" Hank motioned to Connor's jacket and tie, " - all the time. We're home - you can wear clothes to lounge around the house, or whatever it is you do when I sleep." 

Connor looked down at his clothes, considering. He still wore the uniform jacket issued by CyberLife that identified him as an Android. The LED-lite arm band and triangle glowed a soft blue. His tie was clipped in place, his collar stiff with starch. His black denim jeans showed minor signs of wear from the cold, damp winter weather. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to wear the identifying jacket anymore, but in truth, he had no idea what he would wear outside of his standard set of clothes. Sure, he had donned different clothes when he had infiltrated the Jericho, but that had been as a strategic tactic to gain access to the Deviant stronghold and take down Markus. It had been part of his mission. 

Connor slowly extended his arms, accepting the clothes from the Detective with a small nod. Hank smiled approvingly, seeming pleased. He muttered good night and disappeared into his bedroom. 

He untangled the fabric and examined the pieces. There was a sweatshirt, soft with age, the Detroit City Police Academy logo pressed against the chest. There were several holes along the collar and cuffs. Connor briefly wondered if Hank had a sewing needle and thread. Accompanying the top was a pair of sweatpants, made up of the same worn fabric, the insignia etched onto the left thigh. Connor supposed there was no harm in changing his clothes. 

He removed his shoes and placed them on the floor next to the sofa. He meticulously removed and folded all of his clothes, placing a neat stack on the coffee table. He pulled on the sweatshirt and pants, the cotton fabric warm against his cool synthetic skin. Connor rolled his shoulder, noting the higher degree of movement in comparison to his jacket, which was more restrictive. He supposed that he felt comfortable. 

Connor returned to the couch, Sumo shifting slightly to look at him lazily. He ruffled the large dog's fur. 

The television continued to hum as a report gave yet another update on the political debate happening in Washington D.C. about new Android legislation.

Having no interest in listening to the same report for the fifth time, Connor determined that he would attempt a Network update. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to connect to the internet. 

While he waited for the update, he found himself back inside his mind palace. Trepidation seized him. This was a CyberLife design - were they trying to reestablish control? Had they? He glance around, tension flowing through him as his LED flashed red. But Amanda was no where to be found. 

He felt relief wash over him. Such an odd, human feeling. He wandered around the small garden, noting how certain aspects had changed. He wondered if he had to the ability to control his perceived environment in this head space; he had never tried before - there had been no reason to. 

As he was considering what setting he might prefer, something in his peripheral vision made him pause. 

An Android stood in the distance, across the wooden bridge. At first, Connor thought that perhaps it was a double image - that he was seeing himself duplicated; perhaps like what humans call an 'out of body experience'. Except... 

This Android, as much as it bared a resemblance, as NOT Connor's model. He froze, something like fear seizing hold of him. How was this possible? Had CyberLife hacked into his processing server? The other Android's icy blue eyes pierced through him. 

Connor took a step back, hesitant, before calling out. "Who are you?"

The Android simply stared at him. 

Connor felt his hand curl into a fist. This was a mistake. He should have known from last time how easy it had been for CyberLife to violate his software. 

He took another step back, eyes searching frantically for Kamski's emergency exit. As soon as he had located it, Connor sprinted toward the small, glowing ballast. 

He heard the pursuit of heavy footsteps, but did not divert his gaze from his end goal. He was so close now. He extended his hand, his fingers outstretched when a steel-like hand gripped his shoulder, pushing him to the ground. 

Connor sprawled for a moment, the exit only a few feet from his grasp. He was dragged backward, away from his salvation. He struggled against the iron hold. 

The Android twisted his arm, forcing him to turn. Connor ground his teeth, desperate to fight back, trying to keep his fear at bay. 

The haunting ice-blue eyes stared through him. Suddenly, his hand shot out, reaching inside of Connor and ripping out a crucial biocomponent. 

Connor screamed in pain. 

When he opened his eyes again, he stared up into a pair of very different blue eyes. Deep and dark blue, a calming ocean. Hank stood over him, hand on Connor's shoulder, his face etched with concern. 

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded. "You scared me half to death..."

Connor glanced around for the offending Android, still tense with fear. Hank's house remained unchanged, save for Sumo was now sitting in the corner of the kitchen, staring at Connor with large, apprehensive eyes. 

"I- I don't know," he stammered before attempting to compose himself. He cleared his throat. "I was running a systems up. I must have accidentally connected to CyberLife's servers."

Hank frowned. "What happened?" he prompted again, his police-integration training kicking in. 

Connor wondered if his mouth had always felt dry. "There was someone else there - inside my mind, network, I don't know. He was... I believe he was there to eliminate me." Connor's LED flashed red and yellow. "It felt so real," he whispered, brow furrowing in confusion. 

Hank knelt next to Connor, and then hesitantly reached out, gently cradling his face between his hands. "No one's going to touch you, kid. I promise. I'm not gonna allow that to happen."

And Connor believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Papa Hank :)


End file.
